


the static speaks my name

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Voltron Oneshots [45]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bedside Vigils, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Missions Gone Wrong, Near Death Experiences, Vomiting, Worried Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: “I can’t.”“You can.”“I can’t.”“You have to. Keith, please,” Shiro’s voice was wrecked and panicked through the static of the  comms. “We can’t come to you, so you have to come to us. You have to.”





	the static speaks my name

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I  _ can’t.” _

“You have to. Keith, please,” Shiro’s voice was wrecked and panicked through the static of the  comms. “We can’t come to you, so you have to come to us. You have to.”

Keith ground his teeth. He could taste blood at the back of his throat. 

“I can’t, Shiro, I can’t move, it--” he tried it, tried to gather a leg under him, but his entire abdomen screamed with pain and he gave it up, trying to muffle his grimaces in the floor he was laying on. “It hurts.”

“I know, I know it hurts, bud, but--”

“You don’t!” Keith couldn’t help snarling. He was in pain and he was frustrated and he was  _ scared.  _ “You don’t know!”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry.” Whatever Shiro said next was lost to the buzz in his headset, leaving Keith alone for a few terrifying seconds before it came back. “--dge is looking for a way down.”

“Hurry,” he whimpered, and he couldn’t feel ashamed of it. His vision had been black and white dots for several minutes now and he wondered why he hadn’t just given up and passed out. His body was betraying him, making him sit through the agony. 

“It’s gonna be alright, just hang on for a little bit longer, ok, can you do that for me?”

“I--I don’t know.” Talking hurt. Drawing breath hurt. His head pounded like a war drum and his legs had gone numb and he was cold even though he knew for a fact he was laying in a pool of warm blood. “It-- really-- hurts.”

“I kn--” Shiro cut himself off and tried again. “You’re no stranger to pain. You can do this, Keith, I know you can.”

Keith groaned to the close air of the half collapsed room. Thankfully he was in the part that hadn’t fallen in, but it was sealed off from the rest of the base and there was a wound through his torso that could only be described as a rend. 

Shiro was almost right. He’d had bones broken and joints dislocated and flesh torn asunder and punches and kicks and jabs and electrical shocks, but nothing he could remember even came close to this. 

He really, really didn’t think he could.

“I’m-- Shiro-- I’m sorry-- I can’t-- push through-- this--” His breath was coming in great, painful heaves, and tears beaded at his eyes. His whole life he’d pushed through impossible odds, telling himself  _ you can you can you can  _ until it became  _ you have to.  _ But now? Now the mantra ran through his head on a loop and escaped through his lips without his knowledge. “I can’t-- I can’t-- I can’t--”

“It’s ok, Keith.” Shiro’s voice sounded choked, and the static was getting worse. “It’s ok. We’re coming for you. You don’t have to. It’s ok.”

From somewhere above him came a great squealing groan, and the pile of debris cutting him off from the door shifted and crumbled a bit, metal parts coming loose and bouncing across the floor. Keith stayed where he was. Laying on his front hurt, but it hurt too much to turn over. Keith’s ears rang for several moments after the metal stopped moving, and the dots began to grow, covering his vision. He was starting to feel detached and floaty, and he knew that was a bad sign, but the only emotion he could manage was relief. Once he passed out it wouldn’t hurt anymore. 

Shiro was still speaking. Keith couldn’t parse the words. 

“I can’t do this, Shiro.” Even his own voice sounded distant and garbled. “I can’t do this. It’s too much. It hurts too much. It’s too much.” 

He’d never admitted it before. Never confessed to how overwhelming it all was sometimes. All the people and the danger and the responsibility and the fear and the doubt. How many times had he curled in his bunk at night, clutching at his hair to stop the tears and thinking to himself  _ you have to you have to you have to  _ just to drown out the thoughts of  _ you can’t.  _ The universe had never cared before if he could or couldn’t. 

But this was it. He was at the end of his rope. And he couldn’t do it. 

The comms were a jumble of incomprehensible sounds. Shiro’s voice poked through now and then, but Keith wasn’t even listening. His eyes had drifted shut. 

There was a certain comfort in the thought.  _ I can’t.  _ He knew it, he didn’t have to try. He didn’t have to fight it. He could just let it happen. He was allowed to let it happen. He could rest. 

“--eith… --lmos… --ere…” 

The static rose up to claim him. 

He let it. 

* * *

Shiro should’ve known better. The moment those words left Keith’s lips he should’ve known how bad the situation was. But he hadn’t, he’d argued, he’d wasted precious time trying to make Keith fight through something that even he himself couldn’t have. And back in Green’s cargo bay, trying in vain to stem the flow of blood from Keith’s chest, he was feeling the pressure of those wasted seconds. 

The other paladins weren’t much help. Hunk had taken one look at the wound carved into Keith’s torso and ran away to vomit. Lance managed to keep it together long enough to get Keith aboard the lion, but now Shiro could hear him tucked away in some corner, heaving up everything he’d eaten before the mission. Pidge was too busy flying. 

Shiro looked at the wound without seeing it. He didn’t acknowledge the red red red of the blood pouring out, didn’t notice the bits of white in the flesh that could’ve been bone or shards of his mangled chest piece, didn’t see the strands of rent muscle and organs. All he saw was a gap that had to close. 

Keith was unconscious now, and Shiro was grateful for it. Putting pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding would’ve put him in so much pain. Not for the first time Shiro wished they’d taken Red for the mission instead of Green. It had made sense at the time to take the cloaked lion for the stealth mission, but now Shiro was missing Red’s speed. Even with Keith down he could’ve trusted Red to get them home. 

But they hadn’t, and all he could do now was pray that Green would be fast enough. 

There was a bounce and a harsh jolt, nearly dislodging Shiro from his position, and then the lion went still and Pidge’s voice echoed over the speakers. 

“We’re back, I’m opening the door.”

Shiro blinked, and the next thing he knew Coran and Allura were beside him. He couldn’t discern their expressions through the tears blurring his vision. Allura took Keith from him, gathering him up in her strong arms, and then the Alteans were running. Shiro staggered to his feet and stumbled after them as best he could. He didn’t dare look down at himself. He knew his white armor would be stained with so much blood. He didn’t trust himself to see it without going into the past. He didn’t have time for that. 

By the time he caught up with the Alteans Keith was already sealed in a pod, Coran tapping rapidly at the console beside it. Allura was shoving Keith’s broken and stained armor down a chute, probably for the Castle to repair and clean. Shiro went to the pod, reaching out and almost touching the glass before he remembered the smears of blood on his hands. His fingers curled into fists as they fell to his sides. 

Behind him he heard the door hiss before light footsteps entered. 

“Hunk and Lance are getting cleaned up,” said Pidge’s voice. “How bad is it?”

Coran’s tone was grim when he answered. “Very nearly calamitous, I’m afraid. Hopefully we got him here just in time.”

“How did this happen?” asked Allura. Shiro was tangentially aware that she was directing the question at him, but he didn’t respond. His eyes stared at the pod, but they were unfocused and blurry, and his human hand shook. 

Pidge stepped forward. Shiro heard the buzz of her voice as she gave a recap to Allura, but her hand tucked into Shiro’s elbow was more real to him. It was bare and warm; she must’ve already changed out of her armor. Shiro wanted to get out of his. The smell of blood was starting to gnaw at the edges of his brain, searching for a sweet spot to dig in its teeth. 

“Shiro?” He thought that was Allura, but he wasn’t sure. “Shiro, would you like to go back to your bunk and change?”

He nodded, but his feet didn’t move, and he didn’t take his eyes off of Keith’s pod. 

“I’ll go with him,” said Pidge, and her small hand tugged at his arm. “Come on, we’ll come right back after you change, ok?”

Shiro didn’t like being patronized. All the same he followed where Pidge led, staring blankly and mind dancing with images of torn flesh, ears still ringing with Keith’s words.

_ I can’t. _

* * *

One by one the others shuffled into the med bay to join him in his vigil. Shiro hadn’t even pretended to go to bed like they had; he stayed with Keith, watching over him, and gave little response when the other paladins gave their excuses for coming back in the wee hours of the morning. 

Pidge hardly slept anyway and figured she could have some company. Lance and Hunk had nightmares about the wound. Shiro wished he could do his job and offer up some comfort, but half of him was still stuck in the static, waiting for Keith, waiting to pull him out.

Eventually the others stopped talking. Together they sat, quiet in the med bay, all of their tired, tear streaked faces reflected back at them in the glass of the pod, tinged unnatural blue. 

Together, they waited. 

  
  



End file.
